


the romantic and the warrior

by V_e_s_a_n_u_s



Series: Whumptober 2018 [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Bedridden, Fluff, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_e_s_a_n_u_s/pseuds/V_e_s_a_n_u_s
Summary: Day number 16 of #whumptober! Prompt was bedridden!Fenris is injured in battle, and Hawke, being the loving boyfriend he is, looks after him. And maybe (just maybe) has some less than pure intentions...





	the romantic and the warrior

“Hawke.” The voice rang out in the mansion. It was quiet, mostly empty. His deep voice reverberated off of the stone walls, but downstairs it was just louder than the soft crackling in the fireplace. There was no reply. 

Fenris shifted, trying to push himself up a little higher in the bed, wincing as he did, elbows shaking slightly. He knocked his head against the headboard behind him. Fenris’ throat was dry, raspy but he called out again,  _ “Hawke!” _

There were sounds of shuffling outside the open door, and it was a couple of minutes before Garrett came around the corner, a tray in his large hands. He gave a big smile at the sight of Fenris (mostly) sitting up, “You’re up!” He said, putting the tray down on the bedside table, “It was getting lonely without you,” he pressed a soft kiss to the elf’s forehead. Fenris tried to hide the fact that it warmed him, the soft press of Garrett’s lips on his hairline, but honestly? He liked feeling wanted. Loved. 

“You could have woken me,” he replied, raising an eyebrow, but then watching thirstily as Garrett poured him some water. 

“Anders said you needed rest,” Fenris’ brow furrowed slightly, “And plus, you’re kinda cute when you’re sleeping.” 

“I… look cute?” 

“You know you do. Don’t be coy,” Garrett smirked, and passed him the glass, ignoring Fenris’ almost disturbed look at that statement, hidden by amused eyes, “We didn’t have any wine.”

“A shame, really,” Fenris said, taking it gladly and taking a sip, the cool liquid soothing his throat. He paused for a moment, and then said “Thank you,” in a soft voice. 

Garrett simply laughed, ruffling Fenris’ hair, even as the elf was trying to lean away, until “Ow, ow, stop, ow,  _ stop!” _

Hawke pulled back immediately, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably, “Sorry,” he said, as Fenris had stopped wincing, “How is it?”

The elf sighed, removing the warm fur blanket from over his waist and exposing his legs. He was only in his pants, below the waist. It was too difficult to get leggings or trousers on over his brace. His right leg was swollen, purpling bruises circling his knee like an angry storm cloud. 

He’d twisted in during battle, stepping wrong and came crashing down. It had almost cost him his life, too, had Hawke not been there. The blade was swinging down, blade catching in the light, about to strike him, and he could do nothing, not even roll out of the way. But Hawke was there, Garrett was protecting him, staff knocking the axe out of the way before digging the blade in the bottom of his staff into the assailant's chest, sending a bolt of frost down the blade just for good measure. The mage saw the state Fenris was in, and didn’t leave his side until the battle was over.  _ He saved him.  _

“It’s fine,” Fenris said, putting the glass back on the side. 

“May I?” Garrett asked, gesturing with his hands. Fenris sighed and nodded, he was a  _ child.  _ The elf grit his teeth as Hawke grinned and began prodding at the two pieces of wood either side of his leg. Anders had done his best job at patching the elf up with the limited supplies he had, managed to push his kneecap back into place, and fixing it there. He was supposed to come over later today with new supplies to fix it in a less haphazard way. 

Garrett narrowed his eyes and poked some of the purpling flesh on the elf’s thigh, “Does it hurt?”

_ “Yes,”  _ Fenris hissed, and Garrett drew back for a moment, “But by all means, satisfy your curiosity, Hawke.”   
Garrett laughed, sitting down next to him on the bed, moving Fenris’ legs independently of each other to make room, ruffling Fenris’ hair when he was done, “I’m good, now. It’s just…” he gently threw his hands up in mock exasperation, “I’m a battle mage, I never get to do anything cool or gross like this.”

“Watch your tongue. That’s my leg you’re talking about,” Fenris said with no heat. 

Garrett grinned, taking ahold of his calf on his good leg, “Oh, I know. And they are  _ magnificent  _ legs.”

“Hawke, don’t,” Fenris replied warily, and as Garrett moved he continued, “Don’t-”

But there he was, doing it anyway. The romantic sap, pressing soft kisses onto his shin, working his way up to his knee. Fenris put his head in his hands, peeping through his fingers. He didn’t hate all the sappy things Hawke did as much as he let on, but it was still  _ embarrassing.  _ He groaned softly as his beard scratched against his skin, and Garrett looked up mischievously, brushing against his calf again. 

Fenris sighed, exasperated, growling “Get up here,” and dragging the man up by the scruff of his shirt and pressing their lips together. The angle was awkward: Garrett leaning over him, hand pressed into the bed, sinking in but trying not to jostle his leg, with Fenris’ hand still scrunched up in his collar. 

Fenris’ other hand reached up to hold Hawke’s cheek, panting softly. The man laughed back, shifting further up towards him, his hands trailing up his legs… and accidentally putting too much pressure on a certain dislocated joint. The elf pulled back sharply, his head thwacking against the headboard as the pain lanced through him. 

Garrett didn’t seem to notice, though, chasing those lips as they retreated, further pressing into his leg for leverage. Fenris yelped, about to push him away, but there was a sound at the door. 

“Are you assaulting my patient for a reason, Hawke?” Anders said, snarkily from the threshold, watching Hawke leap away from the bed, “Or can you just not keep it in your pants until he’s better?”

Hawke glanced back at Fenris, whose hair was ruffled and face was flushed… and whose eyes were screwed shut in pain with his hands around his knee, “Sweet Maker, Fenris, why didn’t you  _ say  _ something?!”

Fenris laughed breathlessly, still wincing, “I did. You’re just tenacious, Hawke.”

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled back, stepping out of Anders’ way as the healer approached the bed. Fenris’ laughing face was hardening as the other mage came closer, and Hawke saw the look on his face, “Do you want me to go, Fenris?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll be right here,” he said, walking around and sitting down on the other side of the bed, far away from Fenris’ injured legs. 

“You can stay as long as you don’t try and shag him whilst I’m here. That would be great,” Anders chimed in, setting his bag on the floor. 

Hawke laughed, eyes glinting as he met Fenris’ green ones, “I can’t promise anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Leave a comment or kudos if you did! XD


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